Wildflowers
by Laura 001
Summary: Ron is trying to find the right flowers to apologise to his fiance, Hermione.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter etc etc.**

 **Warnings: Cheating, adult themes.**

 **Hi All, This is a one-shot story where Ron is actually a good character (a rarity for me). Happy reading!**

* * *

Ron stood inside the fragrant flower store, various splashes of coloured petals crammed every space and the scents warred to outdo others. A few magical flowers bobbed and swayed, another was singing a sweet lullaby as water dripped gently onto its leaves.

He had been standing in one place for over three minutes trying desperately to remember which flowers his fiancé preferred while his gaze examined the wares.

 _It's a Muggle flower, I'm sure of it. She always says roses are cliché. Daisies are apparently drab. Lilies referred to death. Pansies reminded her of the Slytherin girl. Poppies are about war, for some Muggle reason. Bollocks, there are too many flowers to remember! Wait, wildflowers, that's it! Hermione prefers wildflowers._

Ron's eyes drifted over the assorted collection.

 _Which ones are wildflowers?_

With a slump of his shoulders, he moved towards the counter and sought the attention of the small girl behind the counter who had been watching him with vibrating energy.

'Erm, can you help me select some flowers?'

'For your fiancé, the war heroine, Hermione Granger.'

 _Here we go again…_

'Yeah.'

'Ekkk!'

Ron winced as the high pitched squeal hit his eardrums.

'Oh Merlin, I get to help you, a war hero! Find flowers for her! Wow, this is like amazing! I can't wait to like tell everyone!'

Ron smiled wanly.

He would be one of the first to admit that he'd liked the increased attention after the war; finally he had distinguished himself from his siblings and he was treated with respect anywhere he went. But living through the war and its aftermath had caused him to grow up, and being a celebrity wasn't always all it was cracked up to be. Everyone knew his business. Reporters followed him and hid behind all manner of things trying to get his photograph. Any time he went out with Hermione or friends, he was in the paper the next day. Always be watched was a buzz kill, he could never cut loose, and his Mum knew every move he made. Hades, he couldn't even go into the jewellery store to buy a promise ring for Hermione without it being splashed over the paper that he was proposing before he had even thought of such a huge step!

That had been very awkward, and he had ended up proposing with the promise ring thanks to those moronic reporters. He had seen Hermione's eyes dull when she saw the run-of-the-mill, impersonal ring – he would have gotten a diamond or something if he had actually planned to propose. His whole family had been standing around, talking about the wedding, and George was shouting at him to hurry up and propose so they could have the engagement party fireworks.

But they were happy, he and Hermione, regardless of the quick moving engagement. Well mostly, they fought occasionally, but what couple didn't – communicating through fighting was normal for them. It was why he was here now; Hermione was annoyed that he had forgotten about the House Elf Fundraising Dinner tonight, she'd bitten his head off this morning over breakfast when he said he had Quidditch training, so he'd skivvied out of Chudley Canons training and was heading back early with apology flowers.

'Mr Weasley?' an unsure voice asked, pulling him back to attention.

He blinked and recalled the excitable girl helping him with flowers.

'I, erm, need a bunch of wildflowers.'

'Oh, but roses are far more romantic,' she gushed, hand already reaching out for some blooming blood red roses.

'No, no, the wildflowers are what I want.'

The girl looked at him as if he was Fluffy asking for a tailored suit. 'Well, if you're sure,' she replied, as if waiting for him to say 'gotch, of course I need a dozen red roses'.

He nodded and she started plucking an array of flowers from different baskets around the store.

Soon she had a large, colourful bouquet and she was wrapping it with vines and paper.

Ron smiled at the collection. _Perfect, she has to love this! And I even hired a new set of dress robes for tonight's dinner._

He waved goodbye to the flower girl and headed to the apparition zone.

Pop.

Ron landed in the small house he shared with Hermione and hung the hired robes by the door so they wouldn't get creased. He smiled at the homely smell of vanilla wafting around the room; it made the place feel warm and welcoming and wherever he smelt that particular whiff he felt happy and calm.

While the place was small, it was distinctly theirs. It had a smattering of comfortable new and used furniture in creams and burgundies. Their awards, photographs, and newspaper clippings adorned the walls in frames, with a large picture of the Order or the Phoenix above the fireplace. Against the main wall was a picture of Hogwarts, and opposite was photographs of the Burrow and Hermione's parents' home; wherever they looked, they were reminded of family and friends.

Making his way to the study, where she completed most of her campaigning work, he grinned in anticipation. As he reached the red wooden door, a moan startled him. Him look at the door with wide eyes.

 _Why did the door moan?_

He shook his head.

 _I'm being daft, it wasn't the door… but that does sound like…_

He stilled, and with his unmoving form another sound became audible. A rhythmic thud.

He frowned at the closed wooden door.

 _Bloody George! I swear if he is having sex in Hermione's room again she will give him an irreversible hex! She must have popped out – best get rid of the sod before she gets back. Bugger… I don't want to see his naked, freckled ass again!_

With a slightly shaking hand, Ron twisted the doorknob and pushed the door to swing wide open. His jaw dropped.

There, on her desk, was Hermione in the throes of passion, naked back facing him and long, smooth legs wrapped around someone else.

The bloke's eyes widened when he caught sight of Ron's movement.

Ron felt himself going red as an angry, betrayed flush bloomed over his cheeks, ears, and neck. The flowers in his hand seemed to droop as his hand went limp and they fell to the carpet.

Then the bloke grinned maliciously at him.

Ron's eyesight blurred and it spurred him from his stupor.

'What in BLOODY HADES is going on here?'

Hermione squawked and immediately shoved the smirking bloke away.

'Awh, Mione, I was almost—'

'Don't, Lance,' Hermione sighed. She slipped off the desk and crouched down in front of the naked man – her now work counterpart and ex Appleby Arrows Quidditch player. When she stood, she was wrapping one of her tie dresses around herself.

She spun and faced him, smoothing her hair as she did. Her cheeks were flushed, but Ron wasn't sure if it was from being caught like that or from the actually act on her precious desk.

'Ron, I'm so sorry,' she said in a soft, quiet voice, the same one he knew she used in the conflict meetings on magical creature rights – she practised it in front of the mirror often enough.

He just looked at her and shook his head.

'How long?' he ground out, gripping the side of the doorway with white knuckles to try and direct his anger towards the wood, rather than at one of his oldest friends and, soon-to-be ex, fiancé.

'Twice,' she answered, eyes drifting guiltily downwards.

 _TWICE! How could she!_

'Twice,' he replied, disbelief evident in his tone.

'Just twice,' she said, moving forward again.

 _JUST! THERE IS NO JUST ABOUT THIS!_

'Twice,' he snarled.

Hermione recoiled slightly. 'The first time was an accident, it was right after you proposed. It was all going too fast and I freaked out, and I didn't think you really knew me when I saw the ring you proposed with. But I loved you and knew we would probably marry one day anyway, and your family were all watching! I couldn't refuse.'

 _Eight months ago – for Gryffindor's sake! I should have told her why I proposed like that, and with that ring, I suppose I can't fault her any more than myself for accepting with doubts, I proposed with them due to my family – but that is still no bloody excuse for cheating! Deep breaths, Ron…_

'And the second time?' he asked, voice calmer once more, although more to do with shock setting in again; probably in an attempt to protect himself in some weird way.

'Today. I was so mad that you forgot about the fundraiser – it is so important to me!'

'I told coach I couldn't do the extra training. I paid the fine so I could come to the dinner. I hired new dress robes and picked up flowers to apologies,' he replied numbly.

Hermione hesitantly stepped forward and gestured to the flowers lying on the floor. 'They are lovely flowers, my favourite. I didn't think you knew what my favourite was…'

'Clearly you thought wrong.'

'Yes, I'm sorry,' Hermione answered meekly, her shoulders slumping as she gave him puppy eyes.

At her defeated posture, something inside of him snapped once more.

'Oh no, you don't get to look like that,' he spat. 'While I have been loyal and standing by your side, you've had an affair!'

'Technically I didn't have an affair, that can only occur when one of the people is married—'

'Do you hear yourself right now? I'm talking about you cheating on me and you're getting bloody technical! You. Cheated. I might have forgotten about the dinner, but that was a mistake!'

'So was this!' Hermione gasped back, her chin lifting as she felt the sting of the insult.

'No, this was you finding a way to hurt me and using it because you were upset,' he spat lowly.

'I never wanted you to know!'

Fire flared inside him.

'It doesn't matter if I actually knew or not, you just sleeping with him while being engaged to me is an attack against me. Besides, cheating always comes out in the end; now, in a month, or in ten years. It would have come out,' he snarled.

Hermione's lips pressed together and her eyes widened pitifully, they started to shine with forming tears. 'Please, Ron, I'm sorry, it was a mistake. Let's just go into the lounge and talk over some tea—'

'Yes, because tea fixes everything,' he answered acidly. 'What about Lance, is he coming too? Or will he just stay leaning against the wall naked as the day he was bloody born and wait for you to return so you two can finish up?'

Hermione flinched.

'There is no talking this out,' he continued. 'You betrayed my trust, slept with another person, and I can never trust you again.' A sharp pang hit his heart and almost caused him to gasp as the emotion reverberated. 'I can't believe you would treat me with such contempt, like I would never find out – do you really think I'm so stupid?'

'No, Ron, you are smart, and I was foolish to even think of turning to Lance for comfort, but I was scared and upset—'

'That is not an excuse! It is never okay to cheat on someone,' he accused.

'I know,' she whispered.

Flashes of Hermione whipped through his mind from the moment of saving her from the troll until just last week. Her face smiling with warmth, eyes glittering with amusement, the tilt of her head as she remembered some obscure fact that would save them. _So much history._ 'I would have thought, even if I wasn't your fiancé, you might have at least cared enough about me as one of my oldest friends to not act like this.'

'Ron, it doesn't have to end this way. We can work through this. If you just try—'

'Try! Maybe if you had tried or talked to me then we could have figured this out. But you didn't. You just turned your back on me and us, letting that bastard dive into you.'

'Ron!' Hermione cried, aghast at his phrasing.

'Oh like you're in a position to judge,' Ron scoffed, finally letting go of the doorway and using his force to throw himself backwards from the room.

'I'm going to pack up my things, I can't stand the thought of living in a house that you've been shagging others in. You can buy me out for the other half, or sell it. I'll be at the Burrow, but don't come by. I will be telling the others that we've split up, I won't say why.'

'Ron, please don't do this,' Hermione begged, reaching out to touch him.

He held his hand up, warning her off touching him.

'Never mind, Mione, this means we can finish up.'

'Shut-UP, Lance!'

'Better yet leave until I have gathered my things,' Ron answered hotly.

'Okay, but when I get back, Mione, I'm going to make you scream harder you ever have in you—'

'Merlin, Lance, it was a fling and it's over between us. Just leave,' Hermione snapped at the still bare man.

Ron left the study to start collecting his things, congratulating himself on not hexing or hitting anyone.

 _See, those anger-management sessions after the war did help – completely rational. Maybe I will look into the Auror program again._

He heard the quiet sniping between Lance and Hermione that was finally punctuated by 'Get out of my home before I hex you. Three. Two.'

Pop.

 _Good, the prat has gone._

He heard running bare feet thudding closer on the soft carpet, but ignored them as he shoved his belonging into his old school trunk.

'Ron,' a voice murmured behind him.

He ignored her, moving from the closet to the drawers and continuing the process.

'Ron,' a little louder this time.

Finished, he moved to the bathroom.

'Ron!'

Bathroom packed with a wave of his wand, he moved towards the lounge where all his belongings were mixed with Hermione's.

 _This will take ages, and I can't do this with her following me around._

He moved to the fireplace and tossed some powder into the flames.

'Potter house.'

Ginny soon appeared into view through the flames.

'Ron?'

'Yeah, can you and Harry come over, now?'

'Well, I've got a few—'

'Please.'

Ginny paused, mouth hanging open. She snapped her jaw closed a moment later. 'Of course, we're coming.'

Ginny disappeared and the flames shrunk out of existence.

Pop.

Ginny and Harry, his face covered with flour, stood before them.

'I assume this is important since Ginny wouldn't let me clean myself up.'

'Yeah, mate, can you please take Hermione to your place until I give you a floo call?'

'Ron! I'm not leaving right now,' Hermione broke in. 'We need to talk.'

'There is nothing left to talk about,' he countered.

Harry shifted his weight, looking between his two best friends.

'We've just broken up, Harry. That won't be changing, don't ask why. Hermione is staying in the house, but I need to remove my things. Please take Hermione to your place while I do this.'

'I'm not leaving,' Hermione retorted shrilly.

Ron shot Harry a begging looking that caused the dark-haired man to grimace and then nod. 'Sorry, Hermione, I'm sure Ginny will keep an eye on him,' he said, casting a look at his girlfriend.

Ginny nodded sharply, if with mild confusion.

Harry and Hermione then disappeared, leaving the siblings standing in the room.

'What is going on?'

'We broke up.'

'But why?' Ginny spluttered.

'Unresolvable issues. Ginny, help me pack up my things? I can't do it with Hermione around.'

Ginny rolled her eyes with a huff, but moved to the wall and started taking his awards and newspaper clippings off the wall.

'Thanks, sis.'

Ginny just nodded stoically and continued to work as quickly as possible, piling his items in the centre of the room for him to shrink and pack into his floating trunk.

Ginny soon left the room to find items elsewhere. A few moments later, she returned. A lacy black bra with Appleby Arrows images flittering around the material hanging from her finger and a wrinkled nose turning her face into a sour look.

'I found this in the study.'

Ron grimaced, having not noticed the pattern before, he realised she had put more thought into the encounter than he'd previously realised – even if it was just a quick glamour charm.

'So?'

'It would be your Cannon team's colours if she, or another girl, wore it for you. And I found it in the study and Hermione has rules about the sanctimony of books which you've obeyed since the Hogwarts Library incident. Three, she likes to be organised and would have never left it on the curtain rod after an encounter and she walked out braless. Four, I doubt you were shagging when you realised your unsolvable issues.'

'I'm not talking about it,' he grumbled.

'That… harlot!' Ginny spat.

'She made a mistake, Gin. I'm not going to forgive her for it, but I don't want to ruin her relationships with others over it.'

'Fine, I won't tell anyone but Harry.'

'You can't tell Harry!'

'I don't keep secrets from him,' Ginny replied stubbornly.

'Gin—'

'Bollocks! Harry! You let that harlot go to my place with my boyfriend! Alone!' Ginny shrieked, whacking her brother as she shouted.

Ron sighed, hands scrambling to capture his sister's dangerous limbs. 'I think she is no longer in the mood today.'

'Argh!'

Ginny wrenched her hands free.

Pop.

Ron sighed again and rubbed his forehead.

 _Well, nothing I can do about it right now._

Pop.

Ron jumped in surprise, turned and looked towards the source of the noise. A baffled Harry stood in the room – face only half cleaned of flour.

'Ron, why did Ginny just insist I come and help you instead?'

 _How to answer this…_

'And why is there a bra on the floor?'

 _Damn it, Ginny, must you be a complete cyclone of terror!_

'Nooo! Hermione wouldn't!' Harry gasped.

 _Damn Auror training._

'It seems she would and did. Not a word to anyone else.'

'Surely there is some mistake. She loves you. And she is way too loyal.'

'Ask her about it later for the full story. Now will you help me finish this packing?'

'Yeah, yeah, alright. Sorry, mate,' Harry replied distractedly, patting his friend on the back.

The two moved through the rooms in a daze, packing away Ron's items until the apartment looked like he'd never even visited.

'What should we do with the furniture?' Harry asked.

'Leave it; Hermione can pay me back or sell it and spilt the money.'

'Alright. I'll floo Ginny to let Hermione knew she can come back. Did you want to head out first?'

'Yeah, thanks, Harry.'

'Don't worry, Ron. It'll work out,' Harry answered, clapping his friend on the back once more.

Ron closed his trunk and glanced around the room once more, a pang of pain starting to overcome his numbness.

 _Definitely time to go. I'll miss the happiness we had here, but that trust is gone and I'd lose my mind thinking about what she was doing if I stayed. If she truly wanted me, she wouldn't have acted._

He stepped into the floo and called 'The Burrow', spinning away with a whoosh.

'Ron? Were you and Hermione coming around for— Is that your trunk?'

'Hi, Mum,' Ron answered, lowering the trunk and kissing her cheek. 'Hermione and I have split up – permanently. Mind if I take my old room for a bit?'

'Oh, erm, of course not, it's all yours,' Molly answered with a look of bewilderment.

Ron glanced at the table and saw the wedding magazines.

'I'll just clean up, you go upstairs,' she said, swooping down on the glossy pages and bundling them into her arms.

'Thanks, Mum. Only Harry and Ginny know so far – they helped me pack up. If you call the others around for dinner, I'll tell them tonight.'

'If you like, dear,' Molly said with compassion. 'If you want to wait, I can ask them to come tomorrow, or next week instead?'

'No, I won't be changing my mind. Hermione and I are over, I'll tell them tonight.'

'Okay, honey. I'll call them around for six.'

As he walked by, Molly put out her arm to halt his progress up the creaky, wooden stairs. She swished her wand and was soon handing him an open bottle of fire whiskey and a glass. 'Just this once to get the toxicity of whatever happened out of your system. I'll bring up a sobering potion and a calming potion before you come down for dinner.'

Ron cast her a grateful smile and took the offering, happy to be able to let out his emotions and forget, even if just for a short while.

'It will get better, honey, I promise,' Molly whispered as he walked away, and the words assured him and surrounded him in a feeling of love, family, and warmth.

 **THE END**

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you liked the story! Please leave me a review. Also if there are any Oxford English spelling etc issues, please let me know in a PM :D**


End file.
